


Reaffirmation

by loves_books



Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning safely from a mission, Hannibal and Face reaffirm their love for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaffirmation

As Hannibal’s weight pushes him down further into the soft support of the mattress, Face lets the last of his breath escape his lungs and his eyes slip closed in bliss. He loves it when his lover gets like this, loves it when that all-out need for possession and reaffirmation comes out as a need for slow and deep rather than fast and hard.

Another long and difficult mission completed successfully, all of them safely back at base with nothing worse than exhaustion between them. After they’ve been away for so many weeks, Face had known he wouldn’t get far into their home before Hannibal gave in to that need to reclaim him; he loves that, and he needs that himself. If it’s been a bad job, they sometimes barely wait until the door closes behind them before Hannibal will push him up against the nearest wall and just take him, hard and fast and powerful, and all Face can do is hold on for dear life as his older lover shows them both that they are alive and safe.

Sometimes they make it as far as the shower before Hannibal’s control snaps, and Face dearly loves the way his colonel’s grunts and groans echo around their tiny bathroom as he finds himself claimed all over again. All he can do on those times is try desperately to steady himself, trying to find a grip on slippery tiles, as Hannibal’s powerful thrusts threaten to send him tumbling to the ground even as he flies towards heaven. But Hannibal has never yet let him fall, and Face knows he never would.

And then there are days like this. Days when Hannibal needs to spread Face out and possess him long and slow, to worship every inch of his boy’s skin, to just touch and hold and be close rather than claiming him in a show of dominance and power. Though this is still claiming, Face knows, and he loves this more than anything, needs this himself. Needs to feel Hannibal as close as he can possibly be. For both of them this is a reaffirmation, both of the fact that they came through another dangerous mission with their lives, and of their love for each other.

Spread-eagled on their kingsize bed, face-down in the soft pillows, Hannibal’s strong hands gripping tightly to his biceps, the heavy weight of his lover straddling his hips, and Face can’t move, couldn’t move even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t want to, not ever, not as Hannibal lowers his head again to place a gentle and lingering kiss at the very top of his spine, warm wet tongue slipping out so briefly to leave a cool wet stripe across his shoulder blades. 

No words between them, not when Hannibal needs him like this, not when Face needs to be held down in turn. All Face allows himself is a tiny breathy moan as his lover kisses him again, on the back of his neck this time, before those warm lips are gone and Hannibal’s weight shifts above him. He can’t see what the older man is doing from the position in which he is lying, but those strong hands squeeze his biceps just once, a pressure just the right side of painful, and Face knows not to move even a fraction of an inch as Hannibal leans up and back. 

It’s not about submission, for Face, nor about being dominated. It’s just about love and trust and knowing how much Hannibal needs him. Feeling how much Hannibal needs him, the burning pressure of his lover’s thick cock branding into his lower back the most wonderful feeling in the world right now. No need for Face to be thinking or planning, no need to be alert or focussed on anything other than simply feeling. Knowing this is all Hannibal needs from him, knowing it is all he needs too.

The pressure of Hannibal’s backside keeping his hips still is suddenly lifted, though Face can now feel his lover’s strong thighs keeping his own spread wide apart, and he blushes ever so slightly to think of Hannibal just looking down at him like this, legs akimbo and arms stretching wide across the bed. Ass on display for Hannibal’s eyes only. Vulnerable. 

“Beautiful,” Hannibal whispers, so quietly Face almost thinks he must have imagined it, but then that wonderful weight shifts again and a perfect pressure starts to breach his entrance as his lover pushes himself home, just the way they both need at this point. No stretching, no prep, just a thin slick of lube on that magnificent cock and Face’s trust that Hannibal will never hurt him.

Hands back on his biceps now, all of Hannibal’s weight keeping Face pushed down hard into the mattress, and he whimpers ever so softly as his lover sinks slowly into his body, inch by glorious inch. Perfect burn as his muscles are forced to stretch and open, no quarter given, no respite at all as he is filled without pause. In this position he’s tight, so very tight, too tight, and Face blinks fast as unbidden tears spring to his eyes, tears of joy and love at the fact that Hannibal knows he needs this, as much as Face knows his lover needs it in his own way.

Time seems to stand still as Hannibal sinks further into him, that epic length forcing Face open, reaching for his heart, spearing him to his very soul. And at the same time, Hannibal slowly shifts his grip on Face’s arms, sliding his hands down to elbows and then further out to slender wrists, lowering his body down onto Face’s as he does so. Broad chest resting heavily on Face’s back, taut stomach pressed to Face’s ass and lower back, long arms plastered on top of his own, and firm legs stretching slowly out to lie on top of Face’s, until every inch of Face is covered by every inch of Hannibal.

So hard to breathe like this, not that he had much breath anyway as Hannibal’s incredible cock split him open, but Face huffs in short little gasps as Hannibal lets his head drop down to rest on the pillows beside him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. All of Hannibal’s weight is pressing him down now, he is Hannibal’s only support, and then they are joined as closely as it is possible to be when Hannibal finally bottoms out, his hips finally coming to rest against Face’s ass cheeks and his balls hanging low to tease his own.

They don’t move for a very long time, though Face can feel Hannibal trembling against him where they are crushed together. He knows his lover is still holding back, ever so slightly, not dropping his entire weight down, not wanting to crush Face. They have had this conversation before, that Face is a Ranger and he can take whatever Hannibal has to give him, wants to take everything in fact, but still Hannibal will never risk hurting his lover. Face just loves the older man all the more for that, as much as he loves this feeling of being so helpless beneath his colonel, so filled. 

He can’t move, can’t do anything but feel, and oh it feels incredible. Hannibal’s firm body, strong muscles and smooth skin, slick with sweat now as the tension starts to build between them. And that cock, the whole time, pulsing, that pressure so deep in his gut. He can feel his lover’s rapid heartbeat against his back where Hannibal’s chest is pressed against his ribs, and again he can feel it through his ass, and that feeling makes him even more lightheaded as the need for more oxygen finally becomes an issue.

As he always does, Hannibal knows exactly the right moment to start to move, and it’s slow at first, so very slow. Those powerful hands slide back up Face’s arms to his biceps, tight grip reaffirmed as Hannibal lifts his weight up just a little, just enough to let Face’s lungs draw in a huge breath, giving him a moment before there is the slightest flex of hips. Only an inch, just a slow pull out and a push straight back in again, rocking more than thrusting, and the dry heat inside of Face lights up at the motion. He groans, low in his throat, and Hannibal’s answering moan is just as deep and needy.

Another slow pull out, back in again immediately, and Face realises he can actually feel Hannibal’s movements deep in his stomach as he is forced down into the mattress, as well as from the aching need in his ass. He needs more, now, though he knows better than to try begging or even to try to shift his hips. Not that he could. Either action will either get Hannibal’s full weight back down on him, keeping him still and stealing his air, or his lover will just make him wait even longer before finally starting to move properly.

As it is, Hannibal keeps that same slow rhythm, letting it build gradually as his long cock massages Face’s sensitive internal walls, deeper than anyone else has ever managed to reach. At this angle, Face knows there is no chance his lover will hit his prostate unless he moves in a deliberate way, and the knowledge that there is nothing he can do to encourage that sends sparks of incredible pleasure shooting through him. He is putty in Hannibal’s hands, just as Hannibal needs him to be, and all he can do is feel. 

No faster yet, but deeper, Hannibal showing his legendary control as he now pulls out almost all the way before driving back into Face’s body at the same steady pace. Starting to shake now from the overpowering sensations, Face can feel his arms already aching from the bruising grip his lover has on him, and he clenches his hands into fists, flexing his biceps and knowing Hannibal will feel that as a little sign.

Sure enough, Hannibal picks up the pace at last, his legs still pressing Face’s down and keeping them spread wide. His hips will ache for a week, Face knows, but he doesn’t care about anything but finally getting Hannibal to his release, and getting his own. They both need this. A particularly hard thrust and another shift in that powerful body, and finally he sees stars as Hannibal starts to pound his prostate with every stroke inwards, and Face can’t keep back his cries of pleasure any longer, pushing his head down into the pillow to muffle them as best he can. 

The pace picks up again and again until it is nearly brutal, until Face is practically screaming into the pillows, his blood boiling and his brain no longer functioning as Hannibal drives him to the very brink and keeps him there, not quite letting him topple over yet, not just yet. Still no way he can move, no leverage to try to increase the pressure on his own painfully hard erection, even as Hannibal’s actions grind it down into the mattress with every stroke. He needs contact, needs to be touched, stroked, anything, something, but that isn’t how this works. Hannibal needs him to come just like this, held down and helpless, and Face knows that, loves that too.

Another few painfully hard thrusts and Face can’t hold it, can’t help himself, no coherent thoughts left in his brain as everything becomes about the magnificent sensations spreading from his ass throughout his whole body, the equal pleasure and pain of Hannibal’s cock splitting him apart like this, Hannibal’s skin sliding so smoothly over his own as his body moves over him, Hannibal’s hands pinning him down and marking him with stark bruises, Hannibal’s everything, just Hannibal, nothing but Hannibal, and then – 

And then.

The world explodes around him in pleasure as he feels his body lock up and tense, every muscle and nerve firing involuntarily as the most powerful orgasm rips through him and out of him and around him, every inch of his skin singing as white lightening shoots up his spine. He might be screaming, he might be shouting his thanks to the gods, he might just be babbling incoherently, but he won’t realise until much later just how raw his throat is. He won’t realise much of anything until far later – he blacks out completely, face first into the pillows, and the last thing he is aware of is Hannibal roaring out his own release behind him and above him.

He can’t have been out for long, he thinks drowsily, as the first thing he becomes aware of is his lover’s heavy weight pressing him back down into the mattress once again. Hannibal is breathing hard and fast against him, though Face can only take short shallow breaths again now, and they are still connected, wonderfully, incredibly. Face shivers again and again as the most blissful little aftershocks stutter up his spine and out along his limbs, and Hannibal is shaking too, lips pressing unsteady little kisses all across his shoulders and up his neck. 

Those grasping hands are loose now, one tangled up into Face’s hair and keeping his head turned to the side on the pillows so he doesn’t suffocate, the other stroking with long fingers up and down his side. Those strong legs have shifted too, to guide Face’s own legs back together just a fraction, just enough to ease the ache of abused muscles and hips. With another shift, a reluctant one Face can tell, Hannibal lifts his own hips and eases himself out and away, sliding the bulk of his weight to the mattress and off Face, leaving him feeling empty and cold suddenly, even as the last of his orgasm drifts lazily through his blood.

Not cold for long, though, and certainly never empty or alone, as Hannibal immediately sweeps Face up into his arms, gathering his boy as close as he can. Face finds his muscles have turned to water, no way for him to help or move, and he smiles in his sated exhaustion as he lets his lover gently shift his limp limbs around until he is wrapped around Hannibal’s side, head pillowed on a strong shoulder, with big hands stroking gentle circles over his back.

He feels Hannibal’s rapid breathing slowly steady to near-normal, feels his own thumping heart start to beat a more regular tattoo, feels that exhaustion start to overwhelm him. But at the same time he needs to know Hannibal is alright now, needs to know his lover has found what he needed, even as Face himself certainly has. They are both alive, both safe, both together and in love, the mission a distant memory. Right now, that’s all that matters.

Speech seems to be beyond him, though, but once again Hannibal seems to know exactly what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. “I needed that,” his lover whispers into his hair, even as those strong arms tighten further around Face’s body. “Thank you, my love. I needed you.”

“Needed you too,” Face manages to murmur at last, his voice low and rough. “Always need you, John.”

He can feel Hannibal’s answering chuckle rumble through his own chest where they are still so close together, and now he becomes aware of just how sticky and sore he really is, though it’s the good kind of sore he absolutely loves and lives for. Again, Hannibal seems to have the same thoughts. “Shower?” his lover asks quietly. “Or bath, perhaps?”

“Later,” he answers, feeling his body sink down further into the mattress and onto his lover’s own body. “Just this, for now. Just hold me…” And Hannibal does.


End file.
